I’m trying not to be too enthusiastic about this but to be honest, by the end I was so tired and burnt out I was pretty much just showing the kids videos. They were church videos and I did try to come up with questions or activities to go with them but I’d had it. I’d gone from “if there’s somebody else who needs this, Lord, I’d be happy to hand it over” to “I really hope there’s someone else who can do this, Lord, because I can’t anymore. I’m done. I quit.” I hated having to be the Bad Cop so often.
The funny thing is that I’d about managed to work my way past that. I was determined to be a good teacher for those kids. When I say my prayers at night, I tend to thank God for my dear husband and dwell fondly for a bit on the things I love about him or was most especially grateful for that day. (Like him canceling an appointment with the financial-type people when I told him that the Prophet had passed on because he thought I needed the stress off my plate.) One day it occurred to me that despite seeing less of each other these days than we’d used to, my feelings of attachment to him had kept growing. “Hey,” I thought, “maybe it’s because of that thing I do when I pray — it reinforces the good vibes or something.” So then I tried being grateful for the class and the kids and y’know, it rather worked. I wasn’t eager to face those challenges but I at least felt able to.
So of course one day shortly into the new year the second counselor asked to talk to me before church and released me. I don’t wanna get too specific here but just let me say that I think the new teacher’s military experience will be a great help to him. I really think he can be good for the kids and I mean “good for them” as in “will be able to command their respect and attention and be a good role model” not “will beat them into shape.”
There’s an amusing little addendum to this. One child evidently thought that they had driven me to resign. I called them that afternoon and let them know that I had not quit but had been released.